Intra Animam
by Rival lover
Summary: The wizarding world is now at peace, and it has been years since the death of Voldemort. But this peace is unsettled as news reaches the public that the Death Eaters are back, and they want something. Something dangerous. Something inside of Harry Potter. Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater, is assigned to help Harry stay low until they can figure out how to stop this... Drarry, yaoi. DxH


Hello! It's been awhile. I know I should probably updte my other stories, but I feel like all my current YuGiOh stories are going nowhere. I need You was and will end soon, but til then, my passions lie with Harry Potter. I would also like to think my writing skill has changed, as well.

I personally think I've just made everything too long. If you think it's too long, please tell me. I actually am really happy with starting this; I've always loved Drarry.

I know there's not much mention of Draco in this chapter til the very end, but all this long stuff in the beginning is supposed to set the story into place and create a mood :) So please be patient!

Also, this is dedicated to my two closest supplies of support. I think you'll know who you are? (Hopefully?)

ENJOY!

* * *

2004\. 9th. July.

 ** _LONDON DAILY. FRONT PAGE._**

 ** _Violent murder of family of five in the suburbs of London's east. Shocking details emerge of a strange, yet horrifying, massacre of a peaceful Migrant family of Indian descent._**

 _At three in the morning, neighbours of the Khandi family were woken to screams from the usually peaceful household. Police vehicles were brought to the scene to enter the house, but at around three twenty in the morning, they had found all five people, ages ranging from five up to sixty seven, dead in the living room of the house._

 _Eye witnesses report masked individuals leaving the house before police could arrive, but had been warned by emergency staff to not approach them. Though, there are no individual features to be recognised from any of the suspected perpetrators, it is assumed there are about three to four of them out on the loose._

 _Scotland Yard's chief of Police has released a statement after the next few hours, warning others to be vigilant, reminding the public of the random murders in the nineties from similar masked individuals that struck the heart of London. He has advised the public to remain on high-alert, as this could be a repeat of the horrifying Murders that began with the victims allegedly dying from undetermined causes. Read more on Page 7..._

* * *

The news reached the Ministry of Magic before most of London had become aware of the murders. It had gone through all layers of Wizardry immediately, from the simple interns of the Government building, to the heads of each office, whether it be the office of Muggle Affairs or of the office for Magical Education. Before it could reach the head of the Ministry; most had heard of it. By eight in the morning, with many wizards and witches whispering, it had officially reached the head of the Ministry; Kingsley.

Before he could do anything about it, the building filled with people were in an uproar. There was obviously something going on that terrified the people. And usually, Wizards weren't terrified of Muggle News specifically.

But this? This was different.

This was bigger than murder.

This was the news that would bring the British Wizards into a high state of panic. Whispers spread the news around quickly. At first, they were shrouded by mystery. ' _Have you heard of the Murders...? Such a pity... They were done by shrouded men...'_

 _'Did you read that Muggle Paper? those poor muggles- all murdered by such an unforgiveable curse...'_

Soon, in the course of an hour, small, shrouded, mysterious whispers of gossip and fear, began to de-cloak into nude terror and sheer horror.

' _They were tortured by the Cruciatus curse!'_

 _'All five of them- even the young one!'_

 _'No mercy'_

 _'No pity.'_

 _'No. Murdered for their muggle beginnings...'_

 _'Murdered.. .By...'_

 _'By...'_

 _'DEATH EATERS'._

Kingsley sighed heavily, "They're finally out and about. They've returned." His voice was thick with chagrin. Outside of his large office, he could hear the whispering, and feel the tension in the air. Many were awaiting an explanation; a reason why these mysterious figures were out and killing muggles. Many were perhaps waiting for this fear to be denied into some other reason. But Kingsley felt he was unable to do that.

Many sat before him; including Severus Snape, a survivor of the second Wizarding War, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Bill Weasley. "After four years." The head whispered, leaning into his chair in grief. The men before him held the very same looks; grief, annoyance, perhaps just a bit of uncertainty and disbelief.

Kingsley Shacklebolt's office was a very sombre area; purposefully for the sense of thought. The walls were a smooth grey marble, with an even darker floor, white stone tables were oddly around the room were holding books and scrolls and papers. Though Kingsley's table was just a block of black stone, smooth to the touch.

On his black, stone table, there was a spread of white papers, photos (the muggle kind, not the wizarding kind), and a statement from a witch who worked in the muggles autopsy department. Snape was the first to speak, his calculating, sharp and cut-throat voice slicing into the thin atmosphere. "There is no doubt to it," He pressed a long, pale finger at one of the sleek, shiny photos; it was of the mother, laying on the couch, laying still. If none of them knew better, she simply looked asleep. "This is the work of the Killing curse." His eyes were cold to the image, and resentful to the fact that they were killed. "A curse acted with Malicious intent. This isn't a passionate killing, this is a murder on Muggles, because they are muggles."

Bill Weasley piped up, "Well, it doesn't necessarily mean it was done by Death Eaters."

"The cloaked figures seen by-" Remus spoke up, but was interrupted.

"Muggles means nothing." Bill sighed, looking very uneasy in his seat. "Perhaps it's... It's just people who want to dress up. Who want to imitate them and strike fear in us all."

"They've done a bloody good job of it." Mumbled Sirius, who had remained silent in his seat. He had one finger covering his mouth, and ocassionally, would tap it against the tip of his nose as he read one of the sheets on the table. "I came here thinking it would top-secret, that no one would guess a thing. Next thing I know, I see men and women from every kinda office whispering about Death Eaters."

Kingsley nodded understandingly. "I know. This is not the way I'd have handled it. But ..."

"But?" Remus sighed, eyes calculating and never trusting of the head of the Ministry. Ever since the war, he'd found it hard to place trust in the Ministry for anything. "...Why did you call us here today. I certainly do not work for you. Neither does Sirius. Severus should be in the dungeons," The potion's master gifted the Werewolf with a glare, "of Hogwarts," Remus offered a smile. "And Bill... Well, he has never had much to do with you lot."

The ebony skinned man closed his eyes gently, and breathed in, gathering his thoughts. His office had always remained calming, but now... It was frustrating. Thoughts collided with each thought, and nothing seemed to be simple anymore. He shared a look with Snape.

Sirius caught hold of it. "What is it? You both know something, don't you?"

Silence followed.

"Well? Tell us!"

Snape remained silent, broodingly staring at Kingsley with a distinct amount of distaste. "...Come now, Kingsley. Best put them out of their misery."

"Well... Gentlemen... The reason I have called you here today is because there is something much larger than simple deaths coming along..." All perked at the sound of it, looks of concern raising. "You all have certain ties of importance as to why I gathered you. Remus, Sirius and Bill. You remain quite close to Harry Potter, haven't you?"

Sirius immediately grew red in the face. His voice slithered from his lips, which remained thin. He knew his God-Son was not to be mixed with Death Eater's in any clean sense. "... If we are to involve my God-Son in one of your little extermination plans yet again... I'll-"

A hand was raised. "Please."

Snape took this time to speak. "Our head of Ministry is attempting to tell you something important," He glared at the ebony haired man. "Mutt."

A growl, "You ruthless snake!"

"Sirius!" Remus clutched his hand. "Enough." With an apologetic look to the Potion's master, he muttered, "Carry on. Explain this."

The man pulled a face of smugness, and he continued on. "What he desires to inform you about is that the Death Eaters are back," He left no room for any kind of interruption, "and they are back for Harry Potter." And suddenly there was no need for talking. The room itself was silent enough to hear the thoughts of everyone in the room. Kingsley himself, who knew about it all along, was himself shocked at hearing it out loud yet again. "...Yet again."

Sirius shook his head, outraged. "Well, then. Kill them! The answer is simple!"

"Hang on," Remus muttered, he put a hand flat on the desk, before pulling away. The stone had a smudged mark. "Explain." This time, firmer.

"...I hope you are aware of the Horcruxes Harry Potter had been on the hunt for?" After nods, Snape continued gravely. There was absolutely no humor, no smugness in his voice. "Before Dumbledore had died, he had told me about Voldemort's final Horcrux."

"It was Nagini, wasn't it?" Bill recalled, having watched the snake itself be destroyed by Neville. When he spoke, he realised he was inching out of his seat at the information.

"Yes. Voldemort had meant it to be Nagini. But ... I am afraid, there was another. Another that The Dark Lord did not even know about." Snape's breathing became slightly more laboured at the sudden tension. Whether he would admit it or not, the very thought of it all had him grieved. "At Godric's hollow... After his mother, Lilly," his voice wavered ever so slightly, "sacrificed her life for Potter, the love for him had protected him from the Killing curse, rebounding on Voldemort, taking a slight bit of his soul before sending a fragment of Voldemort's own soul wondering into the nearest living thing."

"No." Sirius whispered.

"This living thing was..." Remus swallowed. "Harry?"

"Precisely."

"W-Well, how do we get it out?" Sirius looked determined. "We'll just kill it. Harry will be safe and..."

Snape was cold with indifference. He knew the hard truth. "...Dumbledore had told me there is nothing that could be done. That Harry would have to die to get rid of it."

"Die?" Bill whispered.

"Die. But he would need to be killed by the most powerful weapon out there. And that happened to be the Elder Wand." Snape couldn't help but take a deep breath to stop his frustration ."Though, due to it not belonging to Voldemort, it couldn't work. It had killed Harry," that, they all remembered. "Yet, it had not killed the Horcrux within him, as we know now. And after Nagini's death, and Voldemort's body failing, we had all thought it to be over when the Dark Lord's body fell apart."

It all went silent. "...But," Kingsley carried on, "it has come to my attention Harry still speaks Parselmouth-"

"So?" Sirius jumped to his feet, frustrated, "Perhaps he kept the skill!"

"That he experiences nightmares-"

"He has a stressful life!"

"And ..." Kingsley was growing tired. "He has come to me, personally, worrying." Sirius went silent. "His scar still hurts, he experiences moments where his own head aches, similar to when Voldemort was alive." With deft hands, Kingsley pulled out a pile of parchment from his desk drawer, placing them gently on the table. "I have had various literature, magical and wand experts study what may have gone wrong."

"And...?"

"The wand in Voldemort's hand had definitely not been strong enough, as it never belonged to him, to kill a Horcrux officially."

They all faced a moment of displeasure. "Well?" Remus muttered dangerously low, "How did these Death Eaters find out?"

"...I personally have told no one, and Harry remains oblivious to the fragment of soul in his body. But... I suppose when I consulted various experts, they would have put two and two together, and realised Voldemort is inside Harry. The ones who realised this either had ties to the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, or loose lips travelled along the dark side of the public."

A sense of horror enveloped them. "...And the reason they want Harry is to harvest Voldemort's soul?"

"Precisely why."

Everyone slumped.

"Then... How do we deal with this?"

"With the upmost sense of importance. Harry must be kept away from the public gaze. News will travel that the Death Eater's are upon us. There is no use in covering it up, no use in pretending this sickness isn't spreading. They will try and take him, and yes, he may be a strong wizard capable of fighting, but there is no doubt that the darkness is rising." Kingsley's eyes were dark, and he gazed at the four men before him. "And he can't take all of them. Until we can remove the horcrux safely, and properly, we must hide him."

"...Then we must tell him." Sirius mumbled. "W-Where is he? I'll tell him-"

Kingsley sighed, thinking heavily. "Today ..." He pursed his lips, and leant back in his chair with a sigh, crossing his legs. "Well, he should be in his home. Yesterday he'd returned from a mission."

"Home?"

* * *

After the years of Hogwarts, Harry had grown only a little. He was still the short, young man with messy raven hair and light green eyes. His skin was still pale, and he still had a sense of rebellion and loyalty on his face. As he usually was described; he wasn't a normal man. Other than being a wizard, other than surviving the killing curse, twice, he hated days off- and loved his work. Much like the fact he'd hated summer vacations and loved his school life.

Now at twenty four years of age, and working in a secretive area of the Ministry, Harry was quite fit for his young age.

Though, due to missions as of late, the stress had gotten to him, and it showed. Usually he was a bit more fuller, with more muscle. Yet, lately he looked gaunt and thin. Nightmares had caused bags to grow under his pale skin. Lately, the memories and nightmares were getting more frequent, to the point where he was falling asleep during the day whenever he got the chance, only to wake up in a fit of fear.

That's why he felt a certain amount of relief when Kingsley looked him square in the eyes (his very tired eyes) and said, "Have a break. You worked hard." It was only because Harry had just solved a difficult one-man mission which had occupied a few many weeks; and the only reason it was a two week break was because of the mission details.

It had involved wizards kidnapping muggles of all ages and experimenting with any kind of magic. Harry didn't want to think of the details, so he just left it at that. Not even Ron, who'd missed out on the mission, pushed for details.

With a sigh, the ebony haired male laid on his bed, clothed in only draw-string muslin pants and a loose cotton shirt. His hands were behind his head and his legs were just laying uselessly as he dozed in and out of sleep.

 _Couldn't sleep last night._ The same thoughts whirred in his mind. _Same nightmare. Again, and again._ Of course, Harry didn't say anything to anyone, really. He'd discussed it with Kingsley when the latter had noticed his tire, but other than that, he never really mentioned anything to Hermione who simply passed it off as him never wanting to sleep. Ron just shrugged it off, not really paying attention.

Before his eyes glued themselves shut with sleep, he vaguely thought, _I ought to bring them over for dinner_. Dreams captivated his mind soon, and he felt the heavy sensation fo sleep finally upon him like a vague mist.

It was peaceful for awhile. He didn't wake up. He didn't budge. His tired body sunk into the blankets and soon, he felt himself fall and fall into an abyss of dreams. The dreams were quite straight-forward, with cupcakes and treacletart and the great hall where Harry sat with his friends and chatted. He wasn't twenty four anymore, he was twelve, and he was laughing and smiling and not frightened for the future and not wistful for the past.

And then it seemed to go downhill from there, with Hermione and Ron's smiling faces turning very pale and very scared, their features maturing into those of teenage ones. Harry's own features changed, too. And he could see mud adn dirt on their faces and instead of laughter, he heard them crying and screaming for help as the food curdled and burned and went black with ash. And then the people around them were suddenly not their classmates or friends, they were all cloaked in black, with masks and...

And they were all screaming one name, grappling at them fiercely. Harry cried out, _"GO AWAY!"_

 _"VOLDEMORT! VOLDEMORT! VOLDEMORT!"_

And it was...

It was... Voldemort. Voldemort in his mind, Voldemort in his body, Voldemort everywhere. The man was yelling in his mind, screaming, tearing at his insides, bellowing at him and repeating the angry words 'AVADA KEDAVRA!'.

The white face was a fright, and Harry's physical body began to tremble, his legs kicking slightly, before the yelling in his ears became too real, and his mind wrenched itself awake. He jolted up, alert, with a fright.

Sweat was trickling by his ears, his hair becoming wet, and he felt his shirt clinging to his armpits and chest possessively. "N- No, fuck!" The yell came involuntarily, but the young man couldn't stop the choked voice that yelled it out. It was like he was just being smashed into a frightening wall, and wondering where it had come from. The sudden shock had him frightened.

The sudden pain enveloping his forehead, right where the scar was had frustrated, hot tears cling to his eyes. Everything wa s amess as he clutched at his forehead, hissing, before gasping for breath.

This was nearly every night. Sometimes it was worse, sometimes it was a simple 'gasp' that woke him up.

But all he knew was that he was cursed with this pain. And he hated it. It always brought him to a painful conclusion that he would never be allowed to have a good night's sleep ever again. It took awhile for him to calm himself, but when he did, the blood pulsating in his ears slowed, and he could hear the silence again.

...And then, he heard the door knock.

He was thankfully relieved to hear that. The disruption meant a distraction; and currently, he needed one. Perhaps it was his neighbour, Mrs Denwork, with some cupcakes she'd promised him (even though he insisted he shouldn't). It brought a smile to his shaky, pale, sweaty face when he thought of her wrinkly old face, with the liverspots and the caring smile only an experienced woman like her could have.

His apartment was small. Harry never really needed much space, and this perhaps was because he'd grown up in a closet, so he knew how to manage small areas. When Ginny and him had broken up, she'd kept the larger apartment they'd bought together(he'd insisted on it), and he managed to afford a small little thing in a small cosy part of London. He was very far from Ron and Hermione, they lived in completely different cities, but with floo powder and the ability to apparatus just a thought away, it never bothered them.

He climbed out of bed, pulling his shirt off of his sweaty skin uncomfortably before testing out his tired limbs. It was an easy navigation to the front door. He only had one bedroom, two toilets, and an open concept living room and kitchen. Again, he didn't need much to live.

On one table pressed against the wall, his wand laid there. It still shimmered proudly whenever he saw it, which made his worn mouth smile slightly. He'd fought many battles with it. He was just about to slump past it, before remembering Mrs Denwork was an old witch, and often had him perform charms on her apartment for Merlin knows what. He could never be irritated with her; she was darling.

"Coming." He called, doing a doubletake, before grabbing his wand, before skipping to the door. Another door- just a bit hurried. "It's okay, I'm coming!"

He grabbed the door handle, and pulled it open, expecting the small figure of Mrs Denwork and the smell of freshly cooked cupcakes. His small, worn smile died down when he came face to face with men in black. Not suit's- but cloaks. And silver, metal marks were over their faces. Ebony wands were pointing at him, and hurriedly, Harry swirled his wand, "PROTEGO!" just as they launched offending hex's his way.

He fell back, angrily, and suddenly very awake.

"Capture him- do not kill him." Came the harsh, strict, clear orders.

What was this?! A thousand questions buzzed in his mind, and Harry wondered if perhaps he'd angered a few men and women with his missions. But these people were all in black, and were quickly advancing into his apartment with swift, decisive actions that were honestly very terrifying. Harry's heart quickened as adrenaline spiked his veins.

"Who are you?" He muttered, all tiredness and fatigue gone. "What do you want?"

Although masked, he could basically sense the smirks and sneers on their face. "Potter, it should be clear what we want!" And Harry guessed he knew. It was him they wanted, they'd said it already. But who they were?

...They were all in black. Cloaks, masks and dangerous voices.

It didn't click until they launched hexes his way yet again. Harry doubled back, slashing his wand in the air, "PROTEGO!" He jumped by his couch, and pointed his wand threateningly. They began to snicker at his movements.

"This is the great Harry Potter?!" They began to laugh though, looking at his small home, his thin, shirtless and sweaty body and messy appearance. "You're nothing more than some Half-Blood bum!" The one who spoke more must have been the boss. He stood infront of most of them.

The ebony haired male flashed a snarl. "Excuse me - If I'd known you were coming, I'd have applied more makeup."

They didn't find his retort funny. But they looked at each other briefly, laughing, their dark wands pointing at him. "He hasn't even attacked us."

"Not until you tell me who you are." Harry hissed. He knew already. But he needed to know if they were the real deal. Were they wannabe Death Eaters trying to revive a dead movement? Or were they the real Death Eaters with revenge in their minds, and a new leader guiding the way. "...Who sent you?"

They refused to answer. "You don't need to know, Potter. All you need to do is stay quiet!" the leader snarled, before he snarled, "Defodio!" The spell burst alive out of the offending wand, a whistling sound offensive to any ears.

Harry leapt out of the way and winced when he heard the slashing sound of a canvas on the wall, and the shatter of a small vase below it. Of course they didn't want to kill, but that didn't mean they wouldn't hurt him.

It was time to take offense. Harry deftly leapt to a better area, before powerfully hissing, "Stupefy!"

They dodged it, jumping out of the way and immediately becoming aware of how little space there was for a duel. Two were pressed against the wall and the other three were kicking furniture away in frustration. Harry took their frustration, and pointed his wand at the clumsiest, "Expelliarmus!"

His wand went flying, and landed five feet from the closest death eater. They all lunged for it, but Harry was too quick, thanks to his sharp reflexes. "Accio wand!" He pointed at it, and it flew into his hands swiftly. Without even thinking, he grabbed both ends and snapped it in half, taking no chances.

"HE BROKE MY WAND!"

"CRUCIO!"

Harry just missed that spell, missing the green light that was aimed at his chest. Angrily, he retorted, "CONFRINGO!" a ball of fire was launched at them, and one of the men fell back as the fire scorched his cloak, leaving him crying in agony from the burning of the flame. He soon began to seizure, and passed out.

"Who SENT YOU?!" Harry snarled. He was mad, too mad. He was scared, too. the masks brought back flashes of memories deep in the depths of his mind, reminding him of that fateful tournament in his fourth year. Harry was forced to fall back when the three remaining men both, and simultaneously, cast the Cruciatus spell his way. Harry fell back into another room, a small bathroom, trapped.

He shut the door tight, and fell back against the wall.

He was trying to think of a place to apparatus to, but as he fell back against the wall, heaving from the fighting and the wild adrenaline, he suddenly could only hear the pained screams in his mind.

 _"CEDRIC!"_

 _"Don't touch him!"_

 _"He's back- Voldemort's back!"_

" _Take my body back to my father-"_

The image of Cedric's dead body was something that had affected Harry less and less as the guilt eased. He felt responsible for his death. And then terrified. Terrified for the way he'd simply been killed; just like that, for simply being there. And the image of the Death eaters surrounding Harry and Cedric's dead body had him shivering and staring at the door.

...But then he felt angry.

So they were back?

Real, or just 'wannabes', he was going to hurt them. He grit his jaw and began to tremble with new found power, holding onto his wand tight, waiting for them to open the door. He heard laughing and sneering and taunting. "Is Potty hiding in the bathroom?!" Came a horrid cackle; this time from a girl.

Harry grimaced. He might as well make the first move. With a flick of his wand, the door splintered into a thousand pieces back into the masks of the death eaters, and angrily, Harry leapt forward, and yelled, "Stupefy!"

The girl let out a shriek, having caught the spell, and flew back into his couch, rolling over it and landing with a 'thud' on the ground, amid the wooden splinters. The remaining two snarled their own version of the spell, but Harry protected himself immediately.

He lunged forward with all the bravery in his heart, fearing just a little that if he touched them, he'd remember more of those unhappy thoughts. He growled, voice shaking with rage and passion, "Levi Corpus!"

Immediately, the leader was floated into the air, and without a care, Harry flicked his wand at a wall, where the man went flying and struck it. The whole building was shivering from all the fighting. The man in the black landed on the ground with a great 'thump', before attempting to get up, only to shudder and collapse back down again.

Harry and the remaining death eater stared at him for just a minute, before they were back in the duel. Both figures jumped back, wands pointed at each other. The death eater shuddered, and Harry could sense he was intending to run. "I will let you go if you just," Harry slowly muttered, "Tell me who sent you." If this man didn't tell him, he'd have the remaining, unconscious bodies to rely on.

The figure shook his head, and spoke- and Harry realised it was another woman. "I- I ... I can't. I just have to bring you in. That's all they said I had to do!" She shouted with a frustrated tone. "...I can't go back now!"

"Then bring yourself in." Harry smoothly said, and trusting her unease, he lowered his wand. "You're safe in custody."

She shook her head, the mask shaking. "It's not safe anywhere. Not for you, or anyone who fails." Her wand hand dropped to her side... And Harry attempted to keep talking, but then with a swish of black, it was back, pointing at him, and she shrieked, "REDUCTO!"

He jumped just in time for the object behind him, his TV, was obliterated. He rolled behind a couch, "JUST!" He growled, "STOP IT!" He jumped up, "EXPELL-"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

His wand went flying into the kitchen, and landed directly in a pot on his stove. Harry winced, and tried to calculate how hard it would be to run and get it without getting hexed. ...HE decided it would just be better to give in. With a sigh of defeat, he held his hands up.

But just as he did, the female death eater shivered, and was about to take a step forward, to do a spell, before a powerful, "Stupefy!" blew through the room. She flew to the side and landed somewhere in his bathroom, smashing against either the toilet or sink. In shock, Harry looked at the direction it came from, and was shocked to see Kingsley and the old lady from next door.

"Thanks, Kings-" The man, astonished, holding out his wand in shock, shook his head and pointed at Mrs Denwork. "...Mrs Denwork."

She looked at Harry and nodded. "You're very welcome, my dear. I knew something was wrong when I realised those sounds weren't coming from your... Uh..." She struggled for the word, "Tele-viz-on." The woman still wasn't accustomed to muggle technology, though Harry had tried teaching her. "..." She looked up at Kingsley, though, deathly serious. "...IS it true, my dear? ...Are those who I think they are? Are they honestly back?"

The dark skinned man solemnly nodded, gently placing a hand on her shawl coated shoulder. "Yes. And I strongly suggest you take no chances, and leave far away to a more private area, for your husband's sake." Mrs Denwork's husband was a very old, decrepit man who was a Mud-Blood.

Harry caught on immediately, and felt his stomach churn with the new knowledge that... Well, yes. They were Death EAters. Not the ones who simply wanted to cause trouble, as Harry ahd dealt with some in the past for missions, but the ones who meant business. The ones who wanted to hurt all Muggles and Muggle borns and create a proper wizarding hierarchy.

The old lady nodded numbly. "...I best... Tell my husband the news. I suppose there is no time to lose." Just as she was about to turn, though, she looked up at Harry from across the room. "But Harry can save us." She hesitantly smiled. "He did last time."

"Thank you, Mrs Denwork." Harry breathlessly muttered, waving at her as she departed.

Kingsley looked at the mess of the apartment, and strode over to Harry, "...Enjoying your break?"

The ebony haired male pulled his messy locks back, and ignored the clap on the shoulder he received. He instead went to the pot, and pulled the wand out, glad it was still clean and hadn't left any soup or grease on it. He was still in a bit of shock, and turned to face Kingsley. "We need to talk."

"That we do."

* * *

Reinforcements came immediately, privately, and they closed off Harry's area of the building. The bodies were taken back to be interrogated after they healed, and woke up, but until then, Harry was given most of the attention. Kingsley had made it his mission to apparatus Harry away from his apartment, and somewhere a lot safer. Bt the place they went to was not the Ministry of Magic's building. Not an office or any kind of place Harry had ever been.

It was an old, wooden room he appeared in, and when he recovered from the sickness and slight headache he always got from that magic, he found a rickety, wooden chair to collapse in. With the adrenaline gone, he felt the pain arise in his body from all that action, and he felt the gnawing dread of a new, yet old, danger in his life. "..." He breathed in deep.

...At least the room was warm, he thought stupidly. And when he looked around, he realised the walls were stone, not wood. The floor was wood, though, and it was a rectangular room, with one big wooden table, a small lantern in the middle, and a large, roaring fireplace at the far end of the room.

Kingsley made himself at home, exiting through one of the doors momentarily, before returning with a glass of pumpkin juice and panadol (he'd recently come to realise the scientific wonders of muggle medication). Of course Harry trusted Kingsley enough to not worry what was going on and if he should be scared.

"...Where am I?" Harry wondered with a mumble.

Kingsley heaved a sigh, and with a great sense of tire, pulled up a seat, and sat beside Harry. "A private meeting area."

"Do all Ministry men and women go here for privacy?" Which made him feel useless in his job; he'd never been here.

"No. They Ministry is not aware of this place." and then Kingsley sighed heavily. "I was not aware of this place until last year."

"...What do you mean?" Harry muttered, confused. "...Who owns this place?"

"All will be explained, Harry. For now, relax. You're safe here."

And Harry did feel safe. He didn't feel so bare. The warmth enveloped him like a tight hug, and with a sigh of gratitude, he drank the rest of his juice, swallowed the panadol, before leaning his head onto the wood of the table, fighting his eyelids, before they simply forced themselves closed against all his wishes.

 _Death eaters are back... They're back..._

 _The voice leered in his head, and Harry felt himself shiver at the very thought. It was a deadly, horrible voice. Harry wasn't even having a dream with images, it was just black. He was just this floating body, because he could feel his arms and legs, and his torso, but couldn't move anywhere. He was just this mass of skin and bones left in blackness._

 _And the voice just echoed around him, in his head._

 _"Death Eaters are back... Back for you... Back for me..."_

 _And Harry began to speak- mentally of course. He couldn't feel his mouth moving._

 _"Who are you? Who are you?" He continually asked. Who was this voice belonging to? It seemed so... familiar, yet so unfamiliar._

 _There was a sudden cackling._

Harry awoke with a startle, but not such a dramatic one where Kinglsey reacted like he was dying. He just took in a sharp intake of breath, and jolted slightly, his forehead still on the corner of the wooden table. Of course he'd told Kingsley he'd have nightmares, which usually left him depleted of energy _usually_ , but he didn't know if wanted to virtually show him his restless sleep.

It took him awhile to really wake up, and he had to blink a bit before he could really see. He supposed it was lucky, because just as he straightened up, to try and talk to Kingsley, the door opened hard and swiftly, shocking Harry. He immediately jumped onto his sore, dirty and slightly bloody feet, with his wand pointing at the group of people that barged in.

His face was tense with terror, but soon slacked to one of relief when he recognised the group. "Hermione... Ron..." He breathed, "Lupin-" He was cut off when his ginger haired mate grabbed hold of him tightly by the shoulders, before wrapping his long arms around him, squeezing him tight before pulling apart.

...Ron was still Ron. Still tall, still gangly and thin, with the freckles and thin nose and the awkward half-grin on his face. "Mate, it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too." And it was. It was honestly great to see him. Harry hadn't seen him in a few weeks, considering his work, and had only mailed him a letter a few days ago, but he had missed him. He looked at Hermione with a bright smile, all fears from the nightmare forgotten.

She grinned her toothy smile at him. "It's so weird, Harry, seeing you without glasses." She remarked kindly, before hugging him briefly. Harry could forgive her strange greeting, he supposed she was just nervous and suspicious; whenever something happened, she couldn't drop the uneasy feeling in her gut.

He nodded, and sighed, "Well, contact lenses seem to work just as well, and aren't continually broken." It had only been a few months ago, though, that he'd gotten them. And he found they were a lot more durable than his infamous glasses, which he'd outgrown, and had constantly been repaired.

Hermione grinned, and with Harry hugging the onslaught of incoming guests, he realised they were all the men and women who'd helped him fight the second great wizard war. The majority of the Weasley's (excluding Percy) were there, Remus, Sirius, Hermione and Ron, Fleur, Bill, Neville, Luna, Dean and Seamus and finally Snape were there. They'd spilled themselves into the small room, but managed to find their spot by the table or near the fire, all having small chats and catch-ups.

Obviously the whole issue of the death eaters had dropped from their minds. But most of them hadn't seen each other in quite awhile. Harry hadn't seen many in a few months; including Sirius, who had busied himself with travelling the world after the twelve, stressful years in azkaban, and the dangerous moments he'd had in the war.

As Harry pulled up two seats of Hermione and Ron, they, though, did not share any chattings. Hermione was very serious, as she stared at Kingsley, who remained sombre. Ron looked anxious, as well, and Harry was both serious and very tired.

It suddenly became very quiet when a dull, yet loud, 'thud thud thud' went through the room. People stopped chatting. Luna finished talking about the Wigalloogi's recently discovered in the gardens, and the Weasley's stopped their family-filled squabbling.

It was Kingsley who had thudded his wand on the table.

He gravely spoke, "I would like you all to pay attention to me." Fred made a quiet joke, to which George replied, and then Molly pinched their ears angrily. Kingsley continued without any reaction to them. "...I suppose you have all read the newspaper. Or have heard what's happened." Ginny nodded. "In the city of London, there was a family of muggles who were murdered just a night or so ago. Many of the muggles supposed they were just by cruel, calculating people who used some sort of poison or such. But we all know better. The wizarding community has picked this up; this murder was committed by Death Eaters." No one acted shocked. Or perhaps they did and they were just holding it in. But Harry ultimately felt shocked just thinking about it. He hadn't even read the newspaper.

"So what does this mean?" Molly murmured.

"Mrs Weasley," Kingsley respectfully smiled. "This ultimately means the Darkness is coming upon us. Years ago, when we were attacked by them, they desired to take over us with the help of Voldemort. You may think that without Voldemort, these men and women are no longer dangerous. But they are." The voice he spoke with was deep, horrified and mesmerising. Harry held onto each word with a sense of dread. "They have their old mission, along with a new one."

It went quiet, and Harry noticed Sirius looking at him with a sense of deep sadness. The fire crackled, and the silence was deafening almost to the point where Harry and everyone else's ears pulsated.

"...They want to revive Voldemort."

The whole room was in an uproar, mostly with panic.

"That's impossible!"

"It can't happen!"

"There's no other piece of Voldee to revive!" Taunted Fred and George.

Snape simply rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, staring at Harry with the same intensity as Sirius, which made him feel very uncomfortable. Even after realising how close Snape was to protecting him during his adolescence, even after realising what history he had with his parents, and taht he wasn't evil, the two ebony haired men found it hard to socialise or be on such friendly terms.

After all, Harry was his father's son.

Kingsley this time slammed his wand down, which resonated a painful 'SLAM' in the room, causing many to grab their ears. The voices fell into a pit of silence yet again. "...Ahem.. Sorry. Please. I know you doubt this is possible... And if, like Fred mentioned, there were no other pieces of Voldemort, it WOULD be impossible. But there are."

Hermione, almost by habit, put her hand up, but quickly pulled it down. Instead, she spoke up. "But that's impossible..." She looked at Harry, "We destroyed them all."

Whispers spread, but Kingsley's deep voice flattened them. "The reason I have all called you hear today is not because I want you to fight." the silence became uncomfortable. "You cannot fight the darkness this time. You are all valuable wizards with valuable memories, which the death eaters must not get their hands on... So..." He trailed off, becoming uncomfortable.

"For Merlin's sake!" Sirius snarled, "Tell them! They all should know!"

"...You must all hide yourselves." Kingsley clarified. "You must all go into hiding. With this new wave of darkness rising up, you are prime subjects in helping them get closer to reviving Voldemort, and you are also the objects of their vengeance. Until we can get a good idea on how to defeat them head-on, you must all disappear."

The room was deathly silent. I think all the jokes had been squeezed from the Weasley twins, and even Molly was shocked silent. Kingsley looked at them all. "I know this is a bit... Sudden..." And he looked at Harry, who was confused, sadly, before continuing it. "But you have to trust us that this is for your own safety. I trust the Weasley's have their own secret home to hide in."

Mr Weasley spoke up above Molly. "...Well, yes. But we can't hide everyone-" He looked pointedly at Hermione and Harry.

"You don't have to hide everyone. Just your immediate family." Kingsley assured him, but Mr Weasley instead looked just as stressed.

"I'm sure they could all share a bed," Molly insisted. "Hermione- Harry, dear, would you like tha-"

Harry was just about to nod and smile. He definitely missed the Weasley's household, with their ecstatic dinners and the constant noise. He shared a grin with Ron, ignoring the sullen reasoning for their sudden new house-hold. It couldn't be all bad. He'd, after all, shared a tent with Hermione and Ron for nearly a whole year.

Just as he was about to think where their 'safe-house' would be, Kingsley firmly repeated himself. "Due to their hands in the war, and the knowledge they hold, Hermione, Ron and Harry will be separated."

The trio felt their own atmospheres become a vacuum of almost indignant panic. Harry was never one who really relied on other people to feel comfortable, but in this case... Well, he supposed he relied on them. They were always his support. What would this even mean? They'd be on their owns? In some old, safe house? All alone?

...Harry shared a look with his friends, almost an agreement to escape and just do it _their way_. Because _Their way_ always worked.

"But, Kingsley," Hermione smoothly interceded. She didn't let her panic seep through her voice, and Ron and Harry shared a confident look. "All three of us have helped each other through Auror missions and the second wizarding war, even when it seemed safer to be alone. I don't think it would be such a good idea to ... just split up...-"

But Kingsley remained impassive. "This is for the safety of everyone. Miss Granger," He used her last name to intimidate her, and the frizzy haired woman faltered back in ehr seat. "I appreciate your confidence for your trio. But this isn't the second wizarding world, and this isn't your basic Auror mission. We are dealing with men who mean business. They want to get your memories, they want to torture you, they want to get to Voldemort."

"But you haven't even told us where Voldemort's soul fragment is- where the remaining Horcrux IS!" Harry retorted in frustration. Yet his comment went ignored.

"That is why you will be entrusted a guardian who will take each of you to a safe-house." Kingsley said this carefully. "In a few days, Death Eaters will be rising as news of Voldemort's rising followers goes to the paper." Sombrely he looked at everyone. Grave eyes stroked each face. "...They will actively be looking for you. And the Ministry will indeed be weak. But we will hold them off as long as we can, tightening security. And trust me," He pointed a long, sleek finger in the air. "No one should know where you are. Not even I. Only you can know where you are; and only your carers," He stared at the trio yet again, "Should know where you are."

"But-" Harry stood up. "Stop. Stop- Come on. This is madness. Absolute madness."

"Harry-" Hermione spoke.

But he shut her up with a fuming look. "You want to split us up and hide us? That's your grand plan, Kingsley? It's... It's ridiculous!" He looked around, desperately wanting someone to say something and agree with him. "We're all going to be in the dark. No one will know if anyone is safe, or who's been caught if we're all exiling ourselves to some Godforsaken little shit hole!"

"Listen," Sirius spoke up, pained. "I know you hate this, Harry. We all hate it. I hate it. I have to go into hiding yet again, and I thought this was over. But if it means we keep muggles and wizards safe, if it means we can keep _you, my dear boy,_ away from them- we can keep Voldemort away."

"How do I have anything to do with Voldemort?!" Harry snapped. "Why don't you tell us where Voldemort is! Where his Horcrux is!"

Harry strode over to Kingsley. "You're not giving us enough information to go on." He finished off, fuming and breathing hard, pointing threateningly at Kingsley. He felt a bit intimidated, due to his lack of height, but remained strong.

...Kingsley did not reply.

But Luna spoke. "I agree with Harry."

"See?!"

"But I also agree with Kingsley." Her dream-like voice sighed. Everyone stared at the dreamy eyed, ex-ravenclaw, who always remained as tired-looking as a Narcoleptic. "...Think about it. If we exile ourselves to safety, we could start planning things. I suppose as time went on, we could build ourselves safe communications between one another without the threat of Death Eaters intercepting us... But, I also agree that we need a little more information... Yet..." She sighed to herself, looking at Neville with a conflicted look, "perhaps... It's best not... Not just yet..."

"thanks, Luna." Harry mumbled, slumping back.

Kingsley gave a measuring look at Harry, before looking back at the group. "For those who will hide in groups, take the minimal amount of things you need. Tell no one where you're all going. Bring anyone you feel needs protection..." The Weasley family nodded, but shot their own conflicted look at Ron. "I will ask people not to travel alone. Remus and Sirius, for example. I would need you both to figure out where to go, but travel together." He instinctively looked at Snape, "You will go back to Hogwarts, to tell me of any news between the teachers... I will remain in the Ministry, and attempt to tighten security and figure out how to defeat them."

Ron sighed in anguish, he was just as destroyed as Harry. Perhaps because he wanted to be with his girlfriend. And perhaps because there was a good chance Voldemort could come back.

"You," He pointed at he trio. "You will have your own personal 'body-guards', I suppose. They will take you to a specific place they only know of."

"How can you trust them?" Harry shot a venomous look.

"They are people who have experienced their own hatred with the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord."

Harry sunk in his chair when he sat back down, and he felt tempted to just apparatus right then and there. Hermione, though, somehow got his sight, and slowly shook her head, perhaps knowing him just a bit too well.

"...After a few days of you all integrating into your new homes, one of you must apparate to my office. Only one of you, from one of your group. There must be one other person staying in your safe-house, with protection wards, AT ALL TIMES. But Harry, Hermione and Ron's protectors will contact me themselves."

Everyone nodded sullenly. "You are not all in the dark." Kingsley murmured. "Trust that this will end quickly."

* * *

"This is utterly fucking ridiculous." Harry hissed to his friends, who shared angry faces. "I can't freaking believe they think this is a good idea. It's fucking ridiculous. I mean, how many people can become Death Eaters? We could all easily defeat them-"

"Now, mate," Ron warned him to be quiet. "I think you need to remember the losses we all got from that war, facing a whole army of them."

Hermione nodded, "Ron's right. I know this is weird. ...This is the first time we've ever been split up when fighting... One way or another, we've all been involved in our missions, or in the war. But ... Kingsley has a point. Times have changed, and they're after Voldemort's soul fragment. And... I'm sure we'll all realise it, with Kingsley telling us or not. We've done it before."

"Yeah, exactly. 'Mione's right." Ron muttered. He looked at them all though, suddenly very wistful. "Sucks though that we can't be together. I seriously hate that."

"...And it's not like we can apparate away." Harry hissed. "They'll obviously put wards on the area..."

"It's not like we couldn't try..." Hermione shrugged, but even she knew it was hopeless. "...I think after we've settled in... We should think of a way to get back together."

"Yeah, but where will we even meet? and what if only one of us manages to get out?" Ron huffed, pulling ginger hair out of his face. "Not like we can find anyone. They're all hiding. Why doesn't Kingsley want to know where we're hidin' anyway?"

Hermione looked at him with that same look she'd had ten years ago; 'are you seriously asking that question?'. "...Ronald, Kingsley isn't going into hiding. If the Death Eaters get to him, they can use his memories to get to us. It's for the best, I agree, if he knew as little as possible as to where we're hiding before we can actually fight."

"...Guys." Suddenly, the ebony haired man tiredly called for their attention. Very quietly, he whispered. "In a few months... If we manage to escape... We go to Hogwarts." He spoke as if they knew how to escape and if they were definitely able to do it.

"They'll recognise us immediately-"

"But we could get into the Headmaster's office... somehow." Harry explained, quickly. They were all in the corner of the room, where everyone was quickly discussing things with their groups and with Kingsley. Harry's green eyes darted from one face to another, appreciating how serious they were taking it, but not appreciating how they actually AGREED to the stupid plan. "We could speak to Dumbledore's portrait. He must know something. And... Voldemort may have hidden his last horcrux there... It may have been something we missed."

Hermione shook her head at the last part. "I... don't think so, Harry. I think something went wrong during our hunt." Pointedly, she looked deep in his eyes. And Harry felt his gut churn. It was the same look she gave him when he meant to say his final goodbyes- when he meant to die. He quickly threw the thought away. "...I think you know, too, Harry."

"What?" Ron mumbled. "I don't get it."

"Neither."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "...Alright. Hogwarts it is; by Hagrid's hut. He'll be happy to see us, and more than willing to hide us."

"We remain there until all three of us get there, or until we're told otherwise-"

"Definitely." Both Hermione and Ron nodded.

* * *

It was time to say goodbyes. Molly wailed as she said good bye to her son, promising him it would be over soon and that they would be all right. Harry had to look away as Ron began to tear up, too. He embraced his whole family, and HArry even did too. They all squeezed his small frame, they mussed his hair, and the twins shared two winks, ' _Harry'll solve it.'_.

And then, Harry shook Ginny's hand. He hadn't seen her in awhile, after the break up, but that didn't mean they hated each other. But when he touched her hand, she just embraced him tightly, wishing him the best, and promising they'll catch up over coffee- something they'd promised months ago, but hadn't really done.

And with that, they all disappeared with a crack. And then Harry hugged Sirius and Remus, who looked both extremely sombre, perhaps terrified of this second rebellion, to which Harry gave them a confident 'See you later'. And then they were gone. Harry knew Remus would be picking up Tonks and his child before they went into hiding, and had the utmost confidence nothing bad would happen.

The strangest good bye came from Bill, though. He looked extremely emotional, and he held hands with Fleur tightly, obviously he was going back to his little hut with her, by the beach. But he acted terrified, and hugged Harry so tight he felt his bones could break. "It'll be okay." Harry ahd to pat his back.

Ron obviously took offense that his beloved brother had started crying for the Boy-Who-Lived instead of HIM! But they had their own emotional, brotherly grunts of love and good bye, before the blonde and the Ginger male disappeared.

They all disappeared, and soon Snape just pat Harry on the shoulder, before leaving. Kingsley was the only one remaining, soon, watching the three suspiciously. Obviously he felt they would all disappear on their own mighty adventure.

Which HArry was prepared to do.

But he couldn't. Kingsley watched with a steely gaze, his own wand out.

..."Your own guards should be arriving soon."

And so Hermione and Ron began with their own goodbyes, hugging, kissing- being disgustingly sentimental. Harry had to look away.

And then their own guards came. Ron's came first, which made Hermione cry- something anyone rarely saw. His guard was a burly one, someone who had his own scars on his face and on his right arm, where the word 'Mud Blood' was messily engraved in his flesh. He obviously took his job seriously, as he took Ron as soon as he touched him.

Then Hermione's. She shared a look with Harry, a small 'goodbye', before her own guard, a tall, cold looking woman with a mess of bright red hair appeared. She took Hermione immediately.

And soon Harry just stood there.

And Kingsley approached him. "Harry... It's time to tell you where Voldemort's last soul fragment is."

"Where is it?" HArry muttered. "I'll take care of it- I know I can. I've done it before, even with the Ministry against me." He flashed an impatient look at Kingsley. He didn't mean to be such an arse to Kingsley- his boss- but he was pissed. Being split from his friends, being hurled into the darkness and basically starting everything he'd finished all over again sucked shit.

"I know. I do know that. But you have to trust me, you can't handle this one... Not on your own. Not until we know what to do, not until we're prepared how to get rid of it."

It would be simple though. Godric's sword, or a Serpent's tooth from the Chamber of Secrets. Easy. So easy. Harry was about to argue that until Kingsley continued. "...It's inside of you Harry."

...And that shut him up. His body went cold with shock, and his stomach became a swirling mess of rocks and spew, where he felt ready to collapse and tear the soul out of him. "...That's impossible, though. I got rid of it. I sacrificed myself to the Elder Wand- It's gone..."

Suddenly, he could only see Hermione's gut-wrenchingly knowledgeable eyes. Perhaps she'd caught on. Perhaps she knew his migraines were caused by his scar; his nightmares were meaningful...

...bUt no. No!

"...Not specifically. Yes, the elder wand had killed you. And for the most part, it had striked at the piece of Voldemort's soul within you. But... Do you remember how the wand had never belonged to him?"

"Yes."

"...It didn't have enough power to wipe out the final piece of him inside you."

It was as if the world had plunged him into a bucket of water, and he was drowning. Harry couldn't think straight.

...So this was his fault?

The only reason the Death Eaters were back... Was because of him. Because Harry had fucked it all up- because Dumbledore hadn't warned him, because he hadn't even fucking thought it through. ...Because of that, he'd destroyed the elder wand, and he'd missed his chance. And as simple as that explanation, Harry felt as useless has he had as a child. What could he do?

...What could he do but end it all?

"Then... Then let me kill myself." Harry muttered finally. There was a disgusting taste in his mouth as he said it, as he honestly liked living for the most part. But this... This had to be done. But Kingsley nodded very seriously.

"...Very noble, Harry. But I'm afraid that will not specifically work this time. If you don't remember correctly, Professor Quirrel held The Dark Lord inside of him. When you'd killed him, Voldemort's soul had escaped. This essentially is the same case as yours. If you kill yourself, you are freeing the small part of him inside of you, and letting him regenerate slowly but surely. No. We need you to stay safe, stay away from everyone, and let us find out how to wipe him out."

Very bitterly, he nodded. "...Alright."

* * *

He told himself not to cry. He didn't want to cry. It was a shit thing to do. Crying was SHITTY! He was just sitting on the table, staring at the ground and thinking of what to do. There was no elder wand to find. IT was gone. Harry had snapped it in half.

He couldn't just stab himself. He'd die. And Voldemort's soul would just fly away.

With a deep sigh, he looked up as he heard a loud 'CRACK'. And then he let out an angry yell, "KINGSLEY, NO!"

...There, standing before him, looking all serious, was Draco Malfoy. The blonde git had remained far away from Harry since he'd gone through an inquisition in the ministry. The Malfoy's could not escape their work in the Dark Side, and Draco's father was sentenced to life in Azkaban, his mother was sentenced to a smaller sentence; twenty years. Harry had been there to witness it, and Draco had been grilled horribly for his work, for being part of Dumbledore's murder and even trying to kill Harry Potter. But he was released, and Harry hadn't heard of his whereabouts for a long time.

Was he a death eater still?

Harry pulled his wand up, "What are you doing here?"

"Keeping you safe."

"Oh Merlin no." Harry hissed. "No fucking way is it you. You've... Been missing for years, and then you finally pop up now when I'm feeling pretty shit, and you're supposed to protect me from your ex-posse."

Draco flashed an indignant face, "I take offence to that, Potter. And believe me, I have no interest in being friends with you. But if saving your sorry arse means I get to continue living in a normal world, so be it."

Kingsley simply looked at Harry. "...He was the only one I trusted."

But this was his enemy. His enemy who had been in Slytherin, who had tried to kill him and hurt him and hurt his friends and hurt the whole muggle world! He'd been part of a little Hate-Harry group in Hogwarts, he'd been the one who made Harry absolutely hate Slytherin's with a passion-

...But he clenched his wand.

If Draco meant harm to him- Harry would deal him a horrible amount of pain. He grit his teeth. "...So be it."

As Kingsley said his farewell, Draco pulled out from his back pocket a wallet, and reached down to his shoulder (he must have cast a charm) to pull out a pair of clothes. For a second, Harry stared at Draco with a sense of detest, but then realised that he was still in his old pants and only had a singlet on- not very travel weary, was he? Draco looked him up and down with calculating eyes before simply muttering, "Get changed."

And when Harry did, fairly quickly and blushing the entire time, Draco took no time in nodding a farewell to Kingsley, and gripping Harry's arm. The young auror flinched slightly, but was surprised to feel it was actually a gentle hold. He gave one last look to Kingsley, who nodded towards the Boy-Who-Lived.

And with a small 'pop', they'd disappeared, and were travelling far away.


End file.
